


The Comfort of an Armchair

by felixfelicis09



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Era, Romance, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28578474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felixfelicis09/pseuds/felixfelicis09
Summary: Fred always had a soft-spot for Hermione, one which George, Angelina, Lee, Alicia, and Katie teased him mercilessly for, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t love at first sight, but after spending the last couple of years hearing about Ron’s adventurous tales with the brainy witch, his interest was certainly piqued. This interest soon blossomed into infatuation as Hermione became an honorary Weasley in his parents’ eyes and best friend to not only his daft younger brother, but his favorite (and only) sister as well.While Fred crouched down in front of the fireplace, warming his hands before using an extinguishing charm on the roaring flame, he heard a soft snore to his left and was surprised to see a certain curly haired witch fast asleep on the often neglected armchair by the window. Given that he was the only other Gryffindor in the common room, waking her up was the gentlemanly thing to do.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley
Comments: 3
Kudos: 114





	The Comfort of an Armchair

**Author's Note:**

> Hello AO3 Fremione world! After reading countless amazing Fremione fics over the last few weeks, I finally mustered up the courage to write one of my own and this is the result. This is my first fanfiction, I'm pretty sure I tried to write one ages ago and never got past the first page, so I'm quite proud of my accomplishment. I'm trying to get into writing fiction as a way to tap into my long suppressed imagination (studying STEM at university does that to a person), so I can see this developing into my writing outlet.
> 
> This story is nowhere near where I wanted it to be, but it's cheesy, fluffy, and Fremione, so I'm satisfied with it. Please give me all of your critiques in the comments and help me improve! Thank you for taking the time to read this, I hope you enjoy it!

The couches in the Gryffindor common room were old, like older-than-most-of-the-current-Gryffindors’-parents old, but they were perhaps the most comfortable pieces of furniture Hermione Granger had ever curled up on to read a book. After conducting a poll to rank the best spots in the common room in an attempt to combat the post-winter holiday blues, the sofa directly across from the fireplace, big enough to fit three to four friends, long enough to fit one obnoxiously snogging couple, came out victorious. Luckily for Hermione, her go-to seat was an armchair that sat adjacent to the fireplace in front of the one of the two colossal windows that distinctly marked the Gryffindor common room. 

Hermione was comfortably situated on her favorite chair starting at approximately 7pm on an especially chilly evening the day the first Hogsmeade trip of the term. As was typical for Hermione at the start of every new term, she was determined to finish reading as many books for leisure as she could before her course load required too much of her attention. Although she usually loved to throw herself into her studies, the stubborn witch was coming to terms with the fact that she may have bit off more than she could chew with her courses for the year and felt a slight sense of dread as her light reading was soon to be replaced with textbooks full of potion-making procedures, ancient runes, and her least favorite subject, divination, which Hermione was baffled to find even had a textbook in the first place. Tonight, Hermione suppressed the impending doom that she expected from the next few weeks by immersing herself into came a particularly engrossing chapter of Important Modern Magical Discoveries, a book she had skimmed with Harry and Ron during their first year at Hogwarts while they searched for information on Nicolas Flamel. 

Harry and Ron usually kept Hermione company on nights like this, either playing Wizard Chess in front of the fire or engaging in heated quidditch debates with their other classmates, but after she reported the arrival of Harry’s Firebolt to Professor McGonagall at Christmas, the boys ceased talking to her altogether. Hermione noticed that Harry’s absence extended beyond his avoidance of her though, as she noticed Ron moping about the common room with his siblings whenever the Boy Wonder seemed to disappear. Hermione almost pitied Ron for losing the dumb to his dumber, but with his constant stream of questions about how Hermione was managing all her classes in addition to him taking Harry’s side on the Firebolt debate, the sense of pity she almost felt for the bumbling Weasley boy was fleeting. 

From the snippets of conversation that Hermione caught from around the common room, the whole house was especially excited about their chances for the Quidditch Cup given Ravenclaw’s recent loss to Slytherin. While Hermione was always a fan of cheering on her friends and housemates, she never understood the obsession with making predictions about sporting events. Maybe it was her hatred for divination added to her apathy or maybe it was her hatred of the Firebolt that made her so-called best friends prioritize a game over her. 

Besides Ron and Harry, Hermione was only really close to Ginny and Neville and at the moment Ginny was chatting away with some girls from her year while Ron had lured poor Neville into a game of Wizard Chess to keep him entertained while Harry was away. Hermione was rather used to being alone and honestly didn’t mind it too much as long as she had a good book to keep her occupied and on this night, she was lucky to have picked up a hidden gem that whisked her away from the common room and into the lives of the greatest witches and wizards of their time as they made discoveries that would alter the course of the Wizarding World as a whole. Time passed and unbeknownst to the young witch, she was soon alone in the common room save for one other soul, hunched over a desk beneath a massive portrait of Godric Gryffindor who was snoozing away, unbothered by the flickering flames that still roared in the fireplace. As the clock drew closer to midnight, Hermione began to doze slightly, tired enough to know that she should go up to her bed, but stubborn enough to try to keep reading despite her heavy eyelids’ objections. 

12 o’clock. Twilight streamed through the window, glimmering down on the sleeping witch, wrapped in a chunky blanket with the hulking book resting page-side down against her chest, unintentionally holding her place. 

Fred Weasley wasn’t normally a night owl. Out of the two Weasley twins, Fred had the “early-bird” mentality, while George, well, George just liked to sleep. Early to bed, late to rise had been his motto since they were young, but Fred was always eager to start the day, often scheming from dawn itself to dusk. The only reason Fred was awake on this chilly January night was because inspiration struck and he couldn’t bear to sleep without mapping out the logistics of George and his latest idea, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. 

As fifth years, Fred and George were being encouraged to look into career options and while being an auror or a healer sounded like the honorable thing to do, Bilton Bilmes was getting old and the twins simply couldn’t think of anyone better to succeed their role model than Gred and Forge themselves. While the twins were full of jokes and mayhem for the majority of their time, they knew when to hone in and get serious, like during Potions, particularly when Snape described the unintentionally hilarious side-effects that accompanied so many easily attainable ingredients. Given the stroke of genius that George and Fred had during dinner that evening, Fred jokingly reprimanded his second half for prioritizing sleep, but quickly sent his brother off to bed before getting started on a private brainstorming session. Fred knew that George needed a healthy 9 hours of sleep to function properly, so he didn’t hold his twin back, after all, he’d have plenty of time to fill George in on all of his ideas for the shop during their trip to Hogsmeade the following day.

After dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s on every exciting idea that he could possibly come up with without his partner-in-crime, Fred stretched his long, toned, beater’s arms while looking around the common room and finally realizing how late it truly was. He quickly organized his parchment and quills on the table before making his way to the fireplace. It was common room etiquette for the last Gryffindor in the room to put out the fire before heading to bed to spare the house elves from having to sweep up unnecessary ashes left behind by an unattended fire. While Fred crouched down in front of the fireplace, warming his hands before using an extinguishing charm on the roaring flame, he heard a soft snore to his left and was surprised to see a certain curly haired witch fast asleep on the often neglected armchair by the window. Fred always had a soft-spot for Hermione, one which George, Angelina, Lee, Alicia, and Katie teased him mercilessly for, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t love at first sight, but after spending the last couple of years hearing about Ron’s adventurous tales with the brainy witch, his interest was certainly piqued. This interest soon blossomed into infatuation as Hermione became an honorary Weasley in his parents’ eyes and best friend to not only his daft younger brother, but his favorite (and only) sister as well. Fred initially interpreted his overly protective attitude to Hermione as one of brotherly love, but he couldn’t deny that there was something different there. Hermione was no Ginny to him, far from it in fact. Eventually George had to be the one who pointed it out last year after the incident with Malfoy. Fred acted on purely primitive instincts when he lunged at Malfoy, ready to physically fight him for throwing that disgusting word at Hermione. Bloody hell, even Ron reached for his wand when it happened. Fred didn’t know what came over him, but George cleared it up for him in no time.

“So should we talk about it, Gred?” George chuckled as the twins reached their dorm at the end of a long day, changing out of their robes into their staple reversed Molly Weasley jumpers and trousers. 

“I have no idea what you’re hinting at, Georgie” Fred replied, genuinely confused as he began to rack his brain to think of what his twin would be alluding to.

“Don’t be an ignorant git. You can’t honestly tell me that you don’t remember nearly pummeling Malfoy today after what he called Granger” as much as George loved his twin, the elder of the pair was definitely not nearly as emotionally in-tune as the younger, “I believe you’ve got yourself a little crush, oh brother dearest.” A wicked grin spread across George’s face as he saw Fred’s eyes widen, his jaw slacking slightly as he pulled on his jumper.

Fast-forward a little over a year and Fred embraced this discovery and ran with it. He wasn’t ashamed of his feelings, how could he have been? She was the smartest witch in her class, though she would deny it furiously, she had a wicked sense of humor, and above all else, she never failed to differentiate between Fred and George, a skill that even some of their best friends had yet to master. Fred fancied Hermione to no end, but he knew she was endgame. He didn’t want to bungle up his chances with the pretty witch so he waited patiently and did what he could to make her life easily from afar. Upon Fred’s insistence, Hermione was never the victim of the twins’ pranks and constant teasing, most of which would’ve gone to Ron regardless, but even their most cherished friends couldn’t escape what the twins would do for a quick laugh. Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were perfect examples of this while the girls were some of their best mates, they were far from being exempt from the Weasley’s reign of terror. 

Fred was so used to admiring her from afar, especially this year when it seemed like she was everywhere and nowhere all at once given her insane course schedule, so seeing the subject of his daydreams sleeping so soundly in front of him was an extraordinary feat for the young wizard. “Maybe I should make a habit of staying up late on weekends” Fred thought to himself as he approached the ancient armchair.  
“Hermione,” he whispered to the sleeping third-year as he crouched down in front of the chair after carefully removing the book she had been so engrossed in earlier and setting it open the windowsill beside them, “‘Mione, you’ve got to wake up.” Fred nudged her arm, trying to awaken her. 

“Noo… I don’t… want” Hermione moaned before readjusting herself, somehow finding a way to sink even deeper into the chair. 

While Hermione had dozed off in the common room plenty of times before, it had never been like this. She would never let herself go that completely to the point of risking her fellow housemates hearing her snore, but here she was, this intelligent, funny, kind, bossy, but in a hot way witch snoring and moaning about not wanting to get up in the middle of a very public space. Harry and Ron would never let her hear the end of this if they were here to see it, but they weren’t. Fred was. He smiled, surprised to see this brilliant girl who was never not composed, completely uninhibited and potentially at risk of having a fit depending on how Fred decided to wake her up. As much as he wanted, there was no way for him to carry her to her bed considering that sliding down the stairs leading to the girls’ dormitory would be the likely outcome, even if his actions were rooted in good intentions. 

Fred’s slender fingers grazed Hermione’s arm as he gently shook her in another attempt to wake up the lovely witch in front of him. “Hermione, love, you’ve fallen asleep in the common room. I’m sure you’d much rather get your next 8 hours of sleep in your bed instead of this dingy old chair” Fred murmured. 

After a moment of silence, Fred glanced up at the sleepy witch’s face and was greeted with two tired brown eyes slowly coming out of hiding and he struggled to hide his grin, but Hermione had truly never looked as adorable as she did in this moment. Fred couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt when he noticed the darkness that had seemed to permanently settle under her eyes, a mark of the hours of sleep she’d lost this year to studying, fretting about Harry, and, Fred was certain, crying over the absence of her closest friends from her life. Before he could begin planning how to get back at Ron for treating Hermione so poorly all year, a quiet and raspy voice snapped him back into reality. 

“Frederick… Gideon… Weasley.” Hermione mumbled, “did you just call this chair dingy?” her tone was stern even though the sleep was still leaving her body and Fred was taken aback by her quip. 

“Why yes Hermione Jean Granger, I did. Are you aware of how old the furniture in this room is? I’m sure there must be some mention of it in that book you love so much, Hogwarts: A History, was it?” Fred chuckled, his eyes twinkling, not yet understanding why Hermione seemed so upset over a chair, but more than willing to egg her on and see where the discussion would take them.

“Actually, you’re correct, according to Hogwarts: A History, the last time the Gryffindor common room was renovated was in 1946 after Grindelwald’s Uprising, but that’s besides the point. Honestly Fred, how dare you insult this chair! This chair feels like a warm butterbeer after making the trek from the castle to Hogsmeade in the middle of winter, it feels like a hug from your mother on Christmas morning, I imagine it feels like winning the Quidditch Cup.” Hermione, now fully alert and ready to debate, said as she sat up in the chair and pulled her knees to her chest.

Fred was astonished, for someone as sensible as Hermione, he was pleased to see her get riled up about a silly old chair. 

“Is it really that great? You better move over ‘Mione, I want to know what it’s going to feel like when we beat Slytherin and claim the Cup this year,” Fred smirked, “I don’t know already since you claim this chair nearly every night.” Hermione blushed, uncertain about whether he was just teasing her or sincerely asking her to move. Before she could overthink the red-head’s words, he had already scooted her over further to the right of the chair as he sat down, casually extending her previously bent legs so that they could drape over his own lap. Hermione’s eyes were wide and as desperately as she tried, she couldn’t find the right words to lecture or berate him with. Well, maybe she could, but in this moment she was too flustered by the warmth of Fred’s body suddenly emanating around her that she chose to withhold her words. 

Fred took a moment to assess just how perfectly the two of them fit together on the armchair before using Hermione’s silence to his advantage. 

“Well Hermione, I won’t deny that this chair is quite impressive, but there might be a bit of a confounding variable in this study.” Fred grinned at the witch who was still adjusting to their close proximity with a confused, albeit intrigued expression. 

“You know, you could just accept defeat, Fred” Hermione giggled as she looked up at the wizard, eyes widening slightly as she found that his gaze was already fixed on her. She quickly looked away and continued on, sure Fred Weasley was attractive and so incredibly close to her, but Hermione wasn’t the type to give up her own beliefs for the sake of a cute boy.

“You’ve already admitted that the chair is comfortable! There really aren’t any other variables involved that could change your perspective on it, you sat down and enjoyed the comfort you got from the chair. That’s that, end of discussion” Hermione elaborated, pleased that Fred had found a way to incorporate some scientific reasoning into this little discussion of theirs. He always found a way to challenge her intellectually, even if he did it while they discussed the most mundane things, for Hermione, a conversation with Fred Weasley was never boring. 

“See Ms. Granger, that’s where you’d be mistaken. The way you described it, there was a direct correlation between this chair and feelings of comfort, but you didn’t take into account how I would feel sitting on this chair alone versus sitting on this chair with you.” Fred grinned, confidence radiating from his body. He knew that he wanted to take his time with Hermione, but some harmless teasing here and there couldn’t hurt him in the long term and she seemed more than willing to play along with his little game. 

“Oh Ha. Ha, Fred. You’re really quite funny,” Hermione could feel heat creeping into her cheeks and struggled to decide whether her blush was developing out of embarrassment or rage. Who did Fred Weasley think he was? What gave him the right to toy with her feelings? It was clear to Hermione that Fred was just shamelessly flirting with her like he did with so many other girls, but what Hermione couldn’t understand was why she felt so agitated by his actions. Beyond her appreciation for Fred’s physical attributes, Hermione had never let herself consider Fred as anything more than her best friends’ extremely attractive older brother. Now that the two shared such close proximity, Hermione couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by the new emotions that flooded through her as the jovial prankster gazed at her, looking cheeky as ever as he lazily grazed her calves with his fingers. 

“I’m not joking ‘Mione,” Fred almost mumbled as quickly withdrew his hands from Hermione’s legs and began fidgeting with a small hole at the base of his jumper, “I really do feel comfortable with you.” Confidence suddenly gone, Fred cursed himself for acting on a whim and rushing the process. He should’ve just woken her up and sent her up to her dorm, after all, she hadn’t intentionally fallen asleep in the common room and she sure as hell didn’t ask him to sit with her on the couch. He ruined it, he was sure. 

Without missing a beat, a cheeky grin returned to Fred’s face as he looked up to meet to blushing witch’s face, “Enough about me though Granger, it’s well past midnight now and I’m sure you’ll be wanting to get up early to hit all the spots at Hogsmeade tomorrow! I won’t keep you any longer” he tried his best to sound earnest, but the twinkle in his eye was gone.

Hermione was baffled. Was Fred Weasley nervous? While she knew the smart thing to do would be to simply head up to her dorm and forget about this strange interaction, Hermione was tired of being expected to do the smart thing, especially after last term.

“I don’t actually have any plans for Hogsmeade,” Hermione muttered, searching Fred’s expression for any hint of an impending prank since this simply couldn’t be happening. 

“What with Harry and Ron ignoring me, I was just planning on stopping by Tomes and Scrolls tomorrow to pick up some of the required reading for Ancient Runes” Hermione originally intended to just talk about her plans as a way to continue her conversation with Fred, but thinking about a lonely Hogsmeade weekend without the company of Harry and Ron saddened her. While she never really had a need to go to Zonko’s or Honeydukes, Hermione was more than willing to accompany the boys as they gave in to their temptations before heading to the Inn for butterbeer. 

“Those two are a pair of gits,” Fred huffed under his breath, “I’m sorry ‘Mione, I didn’t even think about that. You’re always more than welcome to hang around with me and Georgie,” Fred sputtered. He didn’t think she would take him up on the offer, but it couldn’t hurt to try. 

“I’d like that,” Hermione smiled, “Fred did you mean what you said?” She could feel Fred tensing and noticed a tinge of red slowly making its way up his neck and to the tops of his ears.

“Blimey Hermione, of course I meant it. I always enjoy talking to you,” he said, trying his best to sound casual, while avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs, scared that he’d burst of sheer embarrassment if he caught a glimpse of the expression on her face. 

Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Of course she always enjoyed good banter with Fred, but she always thought it was just the way he talked to everyone, she never thought he would differentiate her from the rest, but that was exactly what he was doing. She noticed his continuous fidgeting and reached out to touch his hands. He glanced up at her, relieved to see warmth in her eyes. They stayed like that for a bit, enjoying the other’s company while they sat alone in the common room, the shadows from the crackling flame dancing around them.

“I do to, Fred” Hermione eventually sputtered out after realizing just how long it had been, “I mean of course I do! As much as you might hate to admit it, you’re quite intelligent you know?” Hermione said matter-of-factly. 

Fred’s chuckle quickly turned into a hearty laugh, his eyes crinkling as he threw his head back and grasped Hermione’s hand between his own. 

“Only you Hermione Granger, only you would point out someone’s intelligence as a way to flirt,” Fred shook his head and turned to face the pretty witch once more.

“It’s awfully bold of you to assume I was flirting, Fred Weasley,” Hermione blushed but didn’t look away from his smug face.

“Well, if you’re not ready to admit it, Ms. Granger, I will. This all has been rather unintentional, but what’s that muggle saying Dad used at Christmas? Oh right, there’s no time like the present” Fred smirked as he leaned towards Hermione and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, letting his thumb graze her cheekbone while doing so.

Hermione felt a shiver run down her spine. Well tonight had certainly taken a turn. The normally collected witch’s mind was racing, Fred Weasley was flirting… with her? It’s very rare for Hermione to be at a loss for words, but this was one instance where none of the words in the Oxford English Dictionary, or any dictionary for that matter, would suffice. 

She sat there stunned, unsure what to do next. Sure she hadn’t considered Fred before, but now that she thought about it they really do work quite well. They challenged each other and while Hermione had enough maturity for the both of them plus George, Fred was one of the few people that could make her laugh, like really truly laugh. 

While Hermione’s brain buzzed making connections, trying to sort out the feasibility of a relationship with Fred Weasley, the ginger took it as his opportunity to lean closer to her, slowly enough to give her an out until their lips were mere inches apart. 

“Hermione, you there?” he whispered, the feeling of his breath against her skin rushing through her nerves. She blinked, once again aware of her surroundings, before looking into the brown eyes of the gorgeous Weasley in front of her and leaning in, closing the gap between them. 

The kiss was timid at first as the two of them tried to wrap their heads around the situation, but shy kisses soon deepened as they lost themselves in each other’s lips. 

One of Fred’s arms had wrapped around Hermione’s waist as he pulled her onto his lap while the other reached up to cup her cheek, holding her close, scared that she’d disappear if he let go. Hermione apprehensively placed her hand on his chest before emboldening and running her other hand through his hair starting at the nape of his neck. The kiss seemed to last for an eternity but neither seemed to mind, perfectly happy being completely and utterly immersed within the other. Eventually needing to pull apart to catch their breath, Fred couldn’t help but smile at the with in front of him as he stroked her cheek with his thumb. 

“Well that happened sooner than expected,” Fred murmured to himself without thinking.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean, Fred?” Hermione asked as her body tensed. Of course this was a prank, Fred probably bet George that he would be able to convince her to kiss him or something entirely vile like that. 

Fred could feel Hermione stiffen and immediately berated himself for confusing her. 

“It’s nothing bad ‘Mione, I swear” he said sincerely, “it’s just that, well, I’ve fancied you for quite a while now, but I never intended on acting on my feelings this quickly. You’re so busy with school, my asinine brother, and seemingly saving the world every year, I just didn’t want to overwhelm you with how I felt. Especially, since I knew you’d think that I was trying to trick you. I would never try to hurt you, Hermione” 

She couldn’t find any reason not to believe him. Hermione had noticed that the twins’ pranks, though sometimes awfully close, never seemed to involve her and of course she couldn’t forget the way Fred defended her against Malfoy last year when he used that filthy word against her. Hermione sighed, tired of constantly guarding herself against anything she thought could potentially hurt her. 

“I really do feel comfortable with you, Fred Weasley” she murmured as she draped her arms over the middle Weasley’s broad shoulders before leaning in for another kiss, “and I believe you.”


End file.
